


Counterpart

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Beyond, DCU, Detective Comics (Comics)
Genre: Batman Beyond (comic) Tim, M/M, Multiverse, genderfluid tim, there are two Tims, what have I done I think I made Tim fall in love with himself, works off a bastardizatoin of current comic canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9273755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Tim's been alone for weeks. He's at his wit's end, and if his captors wanted him broken, he's thinking they've got exactly that. But when he has finally begun to let go of his grip onhope, he meets a version of him that may truly be hopeless, in soft and subtle ways.And Tim, he can't stand to ever see himself broken.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off [this idea I shared on tumblr](http://timmyjaybird.tumblr.com/post/155550381345/guys-guys-i-have-a-wild-idea-hear-me-out-so-if).
> 
> This fic plays on the idea that whoever took Tim back in Detective Comics is the same as the folks who just showed up in Superman and are kidnapping Supermen over the Multiverse- mostly because I am still not okay over Tim disappearing at the end of Batman Beyond and no one ever touching on it again????
> 
> I can't say this is exactly picking up on comic canon though, since my Tim here is in his early twenties instead of a teenager. Really this started as a bit of a laugh, I figured it'd be some wild smut and that was it.
> 
> I didn't plan on this _I swear_. Also, what a way to bring in 2017.

Tim woke from his uneasy sleep by the sound of the door to his cell rising. He blinked past sleep, glancing out through thick lashes and his hair, falling into his face, as someone was shoved in, stumbling a few steps before falling to his knees. The door was shut instantly- but Tim knew better than to try and rush the strange glass like plasma.

 

The shock he’d gotten that first time he swore had stopped his heart.

 

He straightened up, trying to get a good look at the guy, but he was already shoving himself up and turning, pounding an angry fist on the glass. Tim leaned his head back against the wall, so his hair could fall out of his face, watching for another bemused moment before, “It’s no good.”

 

The guy stopped, his fist resting on the door now.

 

“Sound proof. They can’t hear you in the hallway, and that won’t break. Trust me, I’ve tried.” Tim kept his head tipped back, stretching one leg out along the floor, flexing his toes within his boot. His muscles always cramped when he slept now, since he was usually curled up towards one corner.

 

God he missed  _ beds _ .

 

“They probably listen in, but they won’t care if you complain. Even belittle them. I’ve through some pretty words.” He wasn’t wearing his mask, and maybe in the beginning of his captivity, he would have cared- but at this point, Tim wasn’t so sure his  _ secret identity _ mattered all that much. Besides, not  _ everyone _ recognized Tim Drake Wayne.

 

Only most.

 

The man finally turned, keeping as far back as he could from Tim. His eyes had gone wide, were this pretty crystalline blue that Tim  _ recognized _ , from enough mirrors he’d stared into, throughout his life.

 

“Who are you?” the guy asked, and hearing his  _ voice _ made Tim’s blood run cold. He pushed himself up quickly, lifted his chin and tried to not be appear  _ afraid _ .

 

But hearing your own voice, seeing your own eyes, a version of your face that you could  _ recognize _ , it was terrifying.

 

And against better judgement, “My name is Tim Drake,” Tim said, “Some people might call me  _ Red Robin _ . And normally I wouldn’t offer that up but…” he paused for a moment, licked his lips, “I bet you already  _ know _ all that.”

 

The man pressed his hands flat to the glass, as if steadying himself, leaning his full body weight back against. He was Tim’s height- maybe a  _ bit _ taller, half an inch if Tim guessed?- but he looked like he had a few years on Tim. Closer to thirty than Tim’s twenty-two. His stubble was  _ days _ old, Tim could tell, and his hair needed a cut- wasn’t grown out and long on purpose like Tim’s, just forgotten.

 

But it was  _ him _ \- he was looking at  _ himself _ , and he knew it.

 

“What the fuck is going on here.” Barely breathed, and Tim couldn’t agree with that question more.

 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out since day one,” he admitted. He relaxed his shoulders a little, glancing back at where he had been sitting. “You wanna come over here? Maybe we can piece something together.” Tim turned, gave him the  _ benefit _ of his back- the vulnerability of it- and took the two steps back to the wall, before turning again and slumping down. The man- could he  _ call _ him Tim?- hesitated, before he slowly walked over. He sat down next to Tim, leaned forward and propped one arm on his knee, and Tim could smell exhaust on his red leather jacket and worn out jeans. “You’re me,” Tim finally said, and he could see his adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

 

“This is insane,” this  _ other Tim _ offered, “except I’ve seen insane, and I don’t hear his laugh anywhere.” Tim snorted over that, tipped his head back, and his older counterpart looked over at him, flashed a pretty white smile. The same curve to his lips. “Glad we can both laugh at a Joker joke.”

 

“Laugh and also risk pissing ourselves,” Tim offered, and it earned him a bigger smile. It shouldn’t have been this  _ easy _ to believe- but Tim  _ knew _ there was a Multiverse out there. Knew time travel  _ happened _ and that there were worlds with infinite possibilities-

 

He figured he just had to be seeing one of those possibilities in the flesh.

 

“How’d you get here?” he asked, and his older self sighed.

 

“I was just about to hit Exit 72 on the highway on my bike, and this  _ light _ appeared. I don’t… I don’t remember being taken anywhere, just suddenly being nearly dragged down this hallway. And then being shoved in here with you.” He tipped his head back, looked up at the ceiling. “I wanted to get away from Gotham, after everything that happened. After seeing a future that made me want to never  _ live _ that long, after losing Terry and then having him come back…”

 

Tim furrowed his brow. He wondered if it was strange to ask but… “Uhm, is Terry… your boyfriend?” He wondered if his  _ own _ self could be… different. If he loved differently-

 

What if he didn’t  _ identify _ like Tim did?

 

But his counterpart choked on a laugh. “Oh god  _ no _ . Terry’s just a kid to me. He was Batman in the year I came from. I was… it’s a long story, but it wasn’t the time I should have been in, as I am now.” He sighed, closed his eyes. “But Terry  _ died _ and I had to wear his suit, and then he  _ wasn’t _ dead and I swear it was the happiest moment of my life. Partially because he was  _ safe _ … and mostly because I never had to be Batman again.”

 

“Glad to see I don’t wanna be Batman in  _ any _ world,” Tim mused, rubbing his hands along his knees. The leggings of his suit felt heavy, and he  _ wished _ he had something else to wear. “Better than how I got here. I should be dead. I  _ died _ , I felt it. I felt myself riddled with holes and I  _ hurt _ until there was just nothing… but then I  _ woke up _ .” He licked his lips again. “It feels like forever ago.”

 

“How long have you been here?”

 

“Weeks, I think,” Tim admitted, shaking his head. “I lose track of it. My tech is failing me at this point. I dismantled my suit to try and escape, but this place just  _ never ends _ . I swear it reshapes, like a Labyrinth… and I just went in circles until I collapsed and they shoved me back here.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “I haven’t even  _ seen _ anyone aside of those… things… the guards or whatever… since then.” He kept his eyes shut for an extra moment, thinking that maybe he had finally lost his mind. That he would open his eyes and be alone, be talking to empty space that he had filled simple to ease the ache of loneliness.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

He was still talking to  _ himself _ , but a tangible version.

 

“Bleak,” the other Tim admitted. “You don’t look bad for being here  _ weeks _ .”

 

“They make sure I’m  _ clean _ . It’s weird… it’s like they want me broken but preserved as best as possible.” Tim leaned a little closer, almost wanted to reach out, felt  _ touch starved _ and just wanted to know what someone else felt like. Even if it was  _ himself _ , just to be reminded that people were warm. “Sleeping here is shit and whatever they’re feeding me… well, I didn’t eat the first three days, let’s just say.”

 

“Sounds like my normal cooking.” They both flashed a smile at that, and Tim giggled, reaching up to cover his mouth.

 

God, it was good to just  _ talk _ to someone again.

 

*

 

“You just curl up in the corner?” the other Tim asked, after hours had dragged by, and he had thoroughly looked over the ceil. Tim nodded, glancing at where his cape was bunched up.

 

“Yeah. Really no other choice, they didn’t give me anything.” The other Tim was by the glass door, staring out into the hallway, but there hadn’t been a single bit of movement the entire time. And Tim didn’t  _ think _ they were being fed anytime soon, so- “I might try and get a little sleep…”

 

“Yeah.” He turned, glanced over towards Tim’s cape, then back to Tim, sitting cross legged on the floor. “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea. My eyes are burning.”

 

“They’re a little bloodshot.”

 

His counterpart rolled his eyes. “Gee,  _ sorry _ about that, sugar.” Tim felt a shiver travel up his spine, was took taken aback to fight it off- and  _ prayed _ his other self didn’t notice it. Because it was strange- was this warm sort of tingling he got when the  _ right _ person flashed a smile and- “Is it okay if I join you?”

 

Tim nodded, even though he didn’t think it’d be much  _ better _ , with someone lying within a foot from him on the hard floor. Still, he leaned back, grabbed at his cape and tugged it over, just as his other self sat down next to him, unzipping the red leather jacket he was wearing and worked it off.

 

Tim watched, from the corner of his eye. He was wearing a simple white tshirt beneath it- and really,  _ none _ of that outfit was anything Tim would wear himself. Red leather was alright but a different cut-

 

His thoughts broke off because  _ this _ version of himself? His arms were a little bigger, and Tim swallowed thickly, bit at his cheek and let his hair fall into his face, trying to hide behind it. This was  _ him _ , and he knew he was just feeling the affects of being closed off for so long but  _ still _ .

 

“Here,” the other Tim said, balling up his leather jacket. “We can use this as a pillow and your cape as a blanket.”

 

“Uh…” They were sleeping  _ that _ close. But the jacket was already rolled up and settled on the floor, and the older Tim was stretching out on his side, groaning a little. Tim followed, tossing the cape up over both of them, having to slide in close so it could properly cover them both. But then his counterpart’s arm was sliding over his waist, hand splaying on his back- and Tim wanted to feel it through his suit, as he was tugged closer.

 

“Body heat.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Tim felt like he sounded like an  _ idiot _ , because it was smart. And it was comforting. And when he nestled down into the leather jacket and closed his eyes, the aches in his joints and the burning in his muscles began to ebb, slowly. He sighed, felt that hand stroking his back, smelled the exhaust again and a cologne that was  _ so similar _ to what he used to wear. “You’re comfortable,” Tim mumbled, and the man laughed.

 

“You said you’ve been here weeks, I’d imagine  _ any _ change feels like heaven.” He yawned. “Can’t complain though. Nice to be… next to someone.”

 

There might have been more to that statement. In fact, Tim was sure there was a  _ lot _ more, but he was fading fast, and he couldn’t bring himself to fight it. He was too bone-dead tired, and he just wanted to sleep like the dead, for just a spell.

 

*

 

For a single, blissful moment, Tim forgot where he was. The world was hard beneath his shoulder, but there was something warm around him- there was breathing, in his hair, a chest moving that he was close to. If he were to shift enough, there’d be the familiar sound of a heartbeat, and  _ surely _ that meant he must have dreamt the entire thing. He wasn’t dead or captured he was  _ in bed _ with  _ someone _ and it didn’t even matter who-

 

He let his eyes flutter open, and it was a lie. He was  _ dead _ to the world and stuck beyond the grasps of even the multiverse, in some crevice of time and space that  _ shouldn’t exist _ .

 

And he was wrapped up in the arms of his  _ own _ multiverse counterpart.

 

The other Tim was still sleeping, as Tim fought back a yawn. He hadn’t slept this well since he’d been taken, hadn’t been  _ warm _ this long either. He shifted a little, the cape staying firmly over them both, as he tried to shimmy closer, wanted as much heat and comfort as he could feasibly get. The other man pressed flush to him, so that Tim had to slide one leg between his thighs-

 

And Tim felt his heart rate picking up, as in his sleep the other Tim ground against his leg, let out a little groan. He bit his lip, closing his eyes and keeping his face buried down in the man’s chest, but couldn’t stop his leg from sliding gently, creating a little friction.

 

He didn’t know what he was doing- except that was a  _ lie _ and he knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing, but wanted to believe he didn’t.

 

Another shift, and the other Tim was opening his eyes, mumbling something but keeping a firm hold on Tim. “Hi,” Tim whispered, swallowing, as the hand on his back rubbed up along his spine.

 

“Morning.” The man yawned, as Tim leaned his head back. “Sleep alright?” Tim nodded, and the other Tim flashed a smile, before Tim  _ saw _ the flash of realization in his eyes, as he moved ever so slightly. Color rose in his cheeks and he instantly glanced off, avoiding Tim’s eyes. “Uh… sorry,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “I… haven’t really been this  _ close _ to someone in a while and…”

 

“S’okay,” Tim mumbled, not pulling his leg from between his counterpart’s thighs. And well,  _ that _ answered a strange curiosity he housed about his future on whatever Earth this version was from. He wasn’t  _ with _ anyone. Carefully, he pressed his hand flat to the other Tim’s chest, fanned it out and could  _ feel _ his heartbeat hammering in his chest, nerves and excitement and probably more confusion than either could truly bare.

 

And maybe someday, somewhere, Tim could analyze what he  _ did _ , in that moment. Maybe someday he’s take a hard look at himself and say he couldn’t  _ blame _ it on weeks of isolation, and the thread of impending doom that was now laced into his subconscious. Maybe he’d take a look at what it  _ meant _ about himself that it was so easy-

 

But the hand on his chest slide down, over his belly, pausing at the fly of his jeans. Tim popped the button with one hand, finally got his counterpart’s attention when the other Tim’s eyes snapped down to him.

 

It was a silent question for permission, as Tim rubbed his thumb over the open button, before very slowly pulling his zipper down. Silent and prolonged as he slid his fingertips along the elastic waistband of the other Tim’s briefs, teased the warm skin just above it. But there was no hesitation, just a very restrained, subtle buck of his hips, and Tim was sliding his hand beneath the elastic, under cotton over skin that felt like it was  _ burning _ .

 

The other Tim exhaled, shaking, as Tim rubbed his palm over his cock. He slid it lower, cupped his balls, and his counterpart was tipping his head back, a strangled sound coming from his throat. Tim rolled them slowly, before easing his hand back, pulling from his underwear so he could grasp it, work it down until it rested at the base of the other Tim’s cock. He wrapped his hand around it, was a little sad he couldn’t  _ see _ , as the cape covered them.

 

But it felt like holding his own cock- a different angle, but a feeling Tim was very familiar with. He bit at his own lip, pressed his forehead to the other Tim’s collar bone, squeezing his eyes shut as he stroked the way he liked to stroke himself. The same pressure, the same subtle twist around his cockhead, pausing to rub his thumb over his slit every few strokes. The other Tim was panting already, leaving Tim’s thumb slick with precum.

 

“Shit,” he mumbled, and Tim couldn’t lift his head. His own cheeks were burning and his kept fidgeting, his cock pressing almost painfully to the confines of his suit. “God, it’s like you  _ know _ what I want.”

 

Tim bit his lip so hard it nearly broke, squeezing and dragging his hand down, beginning to shake. His counterpart was grasping at his back now, keeping him close as his hips bucked to meet each movement, until his panting was so damn  _ loud _ , frustrated yet pleased little moans and  _ whimpers _ -

 

And then his entire body shaking as he  _ shouted _ , and Tim felt him coming. He felt his cock pulse, felt the heat and stickiness all over his hand, and kept stroking as he whined himself, his hips bucking before he could stop them. He only stopped when one of the other Tim’s hands left his back, reached down and grasped his wrist, squeezing until he release his cock. The moment he did Tim was suddenly being shoved onto his back, the cape tangling and partially dragging beneath him as he stared up, his counterpart over him, one of his hands fisted and supporting himself on the ground.

 

“Sorry,” he said, his cheeks flushed, eyes this wild dazzling blue. “Hypersensitive- been that long.” Tim swallowed thickly, let his hand flop to the floor when his wrist was released, as the other Tim slid his hand along his suit, easily separating the top and bottom. Tim exhaled, hips pushing up, sucking at his own tongue as his cock was released, flushed like his cheeks and leaking. His own counterpart stared for a moment, swallowed, then- “Is it okay?”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” Tim whined, and the moment there was a hand around him he sighed, tipping his head back, eyes sliding half shut. He’d had no one but himself these past few weeks, had forgone it for so long because he was too busy just trying to  _ understand _ his surroundings, to plot an escape.

 

Maybe he was morbid, grim, maybe he was  _ giving up _ , but this was the largest big of happiness he’d had these past few weeks.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Tim’s eyes snapped fully open at the question, caught his counterpart staring down at him as he stroked. His hand was moving fast, and Tim could feel it shaking- and he was  _ nervous _ he realized.

 

He could only smile, nod. The relief that washed over the other man’s face was evident, and when he leaned down, Tim reached up, wrapped one arm around his neck to anchor him close as their lips met. His counterpart was a bit clumsy, was soft and almost timid, and Tim  _ took _ when it wasn’t offered to him. He pressed harder, dragged his tongue along his lips, pushed into his mouth and groaned as the other man squeezed his cock. He was panting into the kiss, his belly feeling tight as his nails dug into the man’s tshirt clad shoulder, as he bit at his lip before pulling back to pant against his wet mouth.

 

“Timmy,” the other Tim whispered, and Tim shuddered, hips bucking up violently as he whined. Somehow that made it better, and he let his head flop back onto the man’s leather jacket, as the other Tim leaned down, pressed his mouth in hungry, wet kisses along Tim’s neck. He sucked at his pulse, seemed to be  _ finding _ confidence, and Tim squirmed, his thighs shaking as his cock and balls  _ ached _ for release.

 

“Faster,” he panted, “ _ please _ …” he hesitated, and then added, “ _ Tim _ ,” and it was so strange, his own name on his lips. But the other growled, sucked at his earlobe and obeyed, as every loved that Tim had ever taken did when he  _ requested _ before his release. Tim closed his eyes, gave in as the warm mouth moved along his jaw, could feel the scratch of stubble that was borderline  _ beyond _ that. He pushed his hips up to meet each movement of his counterpart’s hand, until he was shaking and shout, digging his nails so hard into his lover’s tshirt and shoulder he swore he could break skin. His orgasm was  _ rough _ , in that it was so damn hard he forgot to breath, wasn’t sure he ever truly knew how. He choked, broken sounds falling from his mouth as he came over the man’s fist, felt wave after hot wave, heard the man’s stuttered breath-

 

Heard a shocked and yet pleased  _ oh Timmy _ , and could only smile. He went lax when it was finally over, working to catch his breath, eyes still shut. He felt the other man nuzzle his neck, giggle out a laugh into his warm skin.

 

_ His own laugh _ .

 

“There’s a joke here somewhere,” he was saying, “about how I can only get it from myself.”

 

Tim barked a laugh. He sat up very carefully, as the other man got on his knees, was reaching down to tuck himself into his underwear and jeans. Tim reached down, adjusted his suit, still smiling.

 

“See, that’s not a problem I have,” he admitted, and his counterpart sighed.

 

“Well, I don’t remember ever being as  _ pretty _ as you.”

 

“Bet you were.” They both grinned, and Tim gave into the warm, sweet heat in the pit of his belly.

 

*

 

Tim hated when they took him, then they  _ preened _ and  _ primped _ , like he was some sort of show dog. He could never see, whatever visor they put over his eyes was secure, locked him into a darkness he had never seen the likes of before. It left his senses strained, one shut off completely and the others works to adjust, adapt, overcome.

 

He wished they  _ wouldn’t _ .

 

Being stripped down wasn’t a problem. It was routine like, methodical, and Tim thought of how many  _ check-ups _ he’d had to have in the Cave and by Dr. Tompkins. It wasn’t even the strange hands that held him still, fingers too long, with too many joints, with strange ribbing on the underside. No, even  _ that _ he could handle.

 

But whatever they rubbed all over him, that was  _ vile _ . Thick, slime like, it ate away at the sweat and dust on his body and he  _ swore _ it felt like it crawled over his skin. He had never missed soap so badly in his life. It would slide between his fingers and toes, move over his throat. Swallowing felt like a chore, and Tim wanted to vomit the first time it had happened.

 

Now, he was becoming used to it. Used to the strange heat that moved over his face, and he  _ never _ saw the device they used to shave him. It was all so strange, like they truly wanted him preserved as he first was, for whatever end they had in sight.

 

And the whole time, the  _ whole damn time _ , he could hear the muttering, over and over again,  _ consume _ and  _ terminate _ . And yet they did neither of the two- instead they cleaned him, re-dressed him, and sent him back to the cell that was the closest thing to a home he thought he may ever know again.

 

At least now it wasn’t lonely.

 

They had taken them at the same time, but Tim still returned later. He found his counterpart on the floor, Tim’s own cape around his shoulders. He looked up when Tim walked in, when the visor was removed, and Tim saw this strange sort of anxiety there.

 

“I thought they weren’t bringing you back,” he admitted, as Tim walked over to him slowly. The man opened his arms, fanning out the cape, and Tim lowered himself into his lap, straddling him and  _ liked _ when he was wrapped up in his arms, in his cape. Tim leaned down, pressed his face into his counterpart’s neck and inhaled.

 

“They take their time with me,” he mumbled, as the hands roamed along his spine. “Whatever they want me for, they want me exactly as they took me.” He grasped at the sides of the man’s jacket, feeling well worn leather between his fingertips, and began to laugh. It started low, but it bubbled up quickly, until he was shaking with it. He felt his other self turn, kiss his now dry hair, whisper into it  _ what’s so funny? _

 

Tim swallowed, tried to calm himself.

 

“If they want me in prime condition,” he whispered, “they could get me a manicure and hand over some good  _ eyeliner _ , for a starter.” That earned him a laugh from the other man, and Tim smiled. “You probably don’t have any hidden in that jacket, do you?”

 

“I’ve never even  _ worn _ it,” he said, and Tim lifted his head, studying the man’s face.

 

“I guess we’re more different than I thought,” Tim admitted, and then, because maybe just  _ talking _ kept his mind off that vile feeling of all that movement over his skin, how hypersensitive it left him and how he swore he could still feel things  _ crawling _ , “You never had the realization, did you?”

 

“Realization?” the other Tim asked, furrowing his brow. “If you’re talking about the whole  _ guys are hot _ bit, uh… yeah. I mean, we…” he trailed off, glanced away for a moment, and he was so much more timid than Tim was. Tim wondered what had happened in his life that he was  _ this _ , and now the person  _ he _ had become.

 

“Not that.” He settled heavier into his lap, moving his hands from his waist up to his chest, pushing beneath the jacket to rest on his chest. His splayed them, let his fingertips flex and rub against the fabric. “Look at me and tell me what you see.”

 

“Myself.” It came without hesitation, but then- “But… not.” He hesitated, and Tim gave a small smile.

 

“I know what you’re thinking. Just say it.”

 

The man exhaled. “You’re  _ pretty _ ,” he admitted, “so much prettier than I swear I ever was. You just…”

 

“I like the word  _ ethereal _ , if you’re trying to compliment me.” Tim said it with a smile, and it earned him one, along with a laugh. “I’m joking,” he added, except that he wasn’t  _ exactly _ . “I don’t identify like you do. Sometimes I’m a man but… sometimes I’m not.” He shrugged a shoulder. “I always liked my looks to reflect a change that could happen at anytime. I like being  _ pretty _ because sometimes I’m a girl.” Tim waited, but his counterpart simply kept studying him. And those eyes, something seemed to  _ click _ there, as his mouth opened slightly, before he clamped it shut. “It’s called being  _ genderfluid _ ,” Tim added, “and it doesn’t have to just be boy or girl, or even two identities, and I wouldn’t  _ have _ to look the way I do, it’s just what I choose and…” he trailed off, sighing, giving a little bitter laugh. “Sorry, I’m rambling. It’s just good to have someone to talk to again.”

 

The hands on his back tightened, as his counterpart leaned in, gently kissed the corner of his mouth. “It’s good to have someone talk to me,” he admitted, “which I… didn’t know I wanted. I thought I was ready to be alone again. Maybe… I was wrong.” He pulled Tim in, and Tim bowed his head, settled in the crook of his neck again. “It’s like rediscovering myself,” he admitted, “meeting you. Seeing what could have happened. Makes me wonder what I did  _ wrong _ .”

 

“Maybe you didn’t,” Tim pointed out, feeling like he was melting, feeling the anxiety ebbing from his bones and muscles. He fought back a yawn. “We both ended up  _ here _ after all.”

 

“Maybe it was fate.” The man tipped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. “And trust me, fate never did a damn good thing for me. Maybe it felt  _ bad _ about the shitty ending, gave me you just so I could see that somewhere… I really pulled myself together.”

 

Tim sucked at his tongue. He wasn’t sure he agreed- if in that he didn’t think this version of him was the failure he was setting himself up to be. He said he had been  _ Batman _ , and that… that was a heavy burden to bare. To live through it, it was a testament to strength.

 

“You’re better than you think,” he whispered, feeling like he could drop off. Feeling shockingly  _ safe _ .

 

Above him, his other self smiled softly, as he squeezed Tim tighter to him.

 

*

 

Tim dozed like that. He didn’t mean to, but suddenly everything was  _ calm _ , and then he was coming back to himself. He sighed, pushing his face closer to the heat he found, felt skin and a pulse. The hand son his back rubbed at his spine, and he vaguely realized he was in someone’s lap.

 

For the second time, he nearly forgot where he was.

 

When the fog cleared, however, he sighed, pressed his mouth lazily to his counterpart’s neck. He opened his eyes, glanced up, and the man had his head tipped back, resting against the wall- but he was awake. Tim smiled, leaned up and pressed his mouth lazily to his jaw, sliding along his body. “Let’s do something,” he whispered, because he felt  _ good _ and he wanted to ride it out, prolong it as best as he could.

 

He hadn’t felt good in so long. He had given  _ up _ the idea of feeling good again.

 

The other Tim glanced down at him, and Tim straightened up, cupped his face and rubbed his thumbs along the stubble on his cheeks. He found it fitting, and while  _ he _ didn’t want it himself- he still  _ liked _ it on himself. He leaned in, kissed him gently, slowly. He felt the hands on his back slide down and out, to grasp at his hips, and Tim rolled them lazily. He got a grunt for his efforts, smiled against the mouth pressed to his and did it  _ again _ . This time, the hands on his hips tightened.

 

“You’re… good at this,” the other Tim whispered, and Tim giggled.

 

“What? Kissing you? Or-” he rolled his hips again, pressing down tightly to the other man. “Turning you on?”

 

Another groan. “Both,” he admitted, before he leaned back in for Tim’s mouth. This kiss was  _ hungrier _ , and Tim sucked at the tongue offered to him, whined around it as the hands on his hips moved to his ass, cupped and pulled him even closer.

 

He felt like his other self was discovering this  _ courage _ , and it turned him on even more.

 

“Try something with me,” Tim mumbled, the words garbled through the kiss. He got a hum in response, a lift of the other man’s hips, but otherwise he gave no sign of pulling from his mouth. Tim felt his lips going overly sensitive, going warm, and he sighed, shivering because he loved having his mouth nearly abused like this- intimately so. But he finally pulled away, their breaths mingling together, before he carefully extracted himself from the other man’s lap.

 

Tim stood up, walking over towards his utility belt, bending over and fishing through it. He pulled out a tiny bottle he  _ knew _ was always there, holding it between his fingers and turning to show it off.

 

“Let’s have one good night,” he said, thinking that he couldn’t count on there being more. Whatever he was being held for, whatever  _ List _ these people were trying to fill- and he had heard that word a lot during his blinded time with his captors- he figured his time was running out. It had been too long, he was  _ too tired _ -

 

And now there was at least one other  _ him _ . Maybe more, for all he knew.

 

His counterpart gawked at him, even as Tim reached down, one handedly began separating his suit. “Come here,” he said, “lay the cape out.” The other man was scrambling up, walking over and bending to drop the cape. He got on his knees, smoothed it out, as Tim tucked the bottle in the waistband of his underwear, reached up and pulled the top half of his suit off. “Take your clothes off for me.”

 

“You’re… serious.” The man stared up at him, and Tim smiled, nodded.

 

“Yeah, I am. Not interested?” He watched his counterpart nearly rip his jacket off, tossing it towards the head of the cape, before his shirt follow, was chucked towards a corner of the small room. The man reached down, popped the button on his jeans, and Tim could only giggle, begin shimmying his suit off his hips. He pulled the lube from his waistband, dropped it on the cape as he bent over, working his suit off his legs.

 

His counterpart leaned back, lifted his hips and shucked his jeans off, before he grasped the waistband of his briefs, had them following. Tim swallowed thickly as he stepped from his suit, thinking it shouldn’t  _ get _ to him like it did, that he was getting intimate with  _ himself _ .

 

But it left his blood boiling.

 

He stepped out of his underwear, before he got down himself, on his knees. “Lay back,” he said, and his counterpart grabbed his jacket, balling it up and using it as a pillow as he stretched out on the cape. Tim leaned over him, pressed a kiss just below his ribs, easing down his belly slowly as he shimmied down the cape. He swung a leg over one of the other man’s, straddled it as he lapped at his navel, got him fidgeting. “Can I put you in my mouth?”

 

He heard his counterpart gasp, as he reached down, cupped his cock- which was  _ hard _ already- and rubbed his thumb just below the head.

 

“ _ Please _ ,” the other Tim begged, and Tim bowed his head, held his cock steady as he lapped at the head. He heard him sob out a breath already, as he lazily kissed down his shaft, sucked at the base just enough to make him squirm. He dragged his tongue back up, before opening his mouth, slowly easing down.

 

He  _ tasted _ just like Tim did. Just like the salt left behind on lovers’ mouths, or those times Tim had licked precum off his own fingers-

 

He shuddered, groaned as he sucked, bobbing his head very slowly. His counterpart let out a broken sob, arching his back, toes and fingers curling, before he was reaching down, trying to grasp at Tim’s shoulder.

 

“Let me… touch you too.” The words were broken, and Tim ignored them for a single moment, if only to ease his entire cock into his mouth, to get his nose in the curls at the base. He felt him shake all over, and Tim exhaled through his nose, felt dizzy and almost wanted to suck him to  _ completion _ -

 

Except he wanted something even more.

 

He pulled off, lifting his head and letting saliva string between his mouth and the man’s cockhead. He was pushing himself up on his elbows, trying to look down at Tim, who smiled sweetly. He maneuvered off the man’s leg, grabbed the bottle of lube and pressed it into his hand.

 

“Open me up,” he said, before turning fully. He braced a hand on either side of his counterpart’s lower belly, bowing his head so he could suck at his cockhead again. He heard the man groan, and closed his own eyes, forcing himself to go slow, to ease his mouth down and back up, to not rush into this.

 

He heard the bottle cap, felt a hand sliding up along his ass- and then hesitation. He pulled back, lapped at the man’s cockhead, heard him exhaled, and then, “I… how do I…”

 

Tim pulled off, glancing back.

 

“You’ve never?” The other Tim shook his head, and Tim had so many  _ questions _ \- but he held his tongue. “Just be gentle,” he said, instead. “I’ve been here without anyone for a while. But you can start with two.” He gave one final smile, before he turned back, bowing his head and getting the cock back in his mouth. There was another few moments of  _ nothing _ , before that hand on his ass was grasping it, tugging and showing off his hole. Tim shivered, felt two fingers tracing his hole, pushing but not pushing in.

 

_ Testing _ .

 

He wriggled his hips, gave a little pleased sound around the cock in his mouth, and it served as enough encouragement. They slipped in, overly slick and just how Tim  _ liked _ it. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and losing his rhythm, feeling his body stretch in the sort of way he missed.

 

“Are you okay?” his other self asked, and Tim pulled off, sighing as he tipped his head back. The fingers were moving lazily, slow and gentle like Tim had instructed.

 

“Yes,” he sighed, letting his mouth fall open. “Curl them,” he added, and his counterpart listened, curling them blindly. It took a few tries until they pressed along the nerves Tim wanted, and he shuddered all over, whining. “ _ There _ ,” he breathed, before he dropped his head, got his cock back in his mouth to muffle the strangled sobs he wanted to make.

 

His other self tried to listen, to follow, kept rubbing at that spot. He’d slip off it before coming back, but it was enough that Tim’s cock was hard, threatened to drip down onto the cape beneath him. By now his muscles were calm, lax, and he had to force himself to pull off again. He watched precum beading up on the other Tim’s cockhead, watched it roll down, as his cock pulsed. 

 

Tim bent down, kissed the man’s lower belly again, tenderly. “You can stop,” he whispered, biting his lip as those fingers pulled out. Tim awkwardly turned, straddled the other’s waist and leaned down, pressed his mouth to his in a tender kiss before he could say anything. “It felt good,” he whispered, like he  _ knew _ what was in this man’s head.

 

Maybe once he would have thought it too, but he’d had the life experiences that taught him intimacy, had a partner that had opened his eyes and gave him  _ confidence _ . He could only reason  _ this _ Tim had never had a Stephanie in his life, in the same way.

 

“But I want something else,” Tim added, moving his mouth to the man’s jaw. Whatever they had done to him when taking him for  _ primping _ , they had trimmed but otherwise not removed the stubble. Tim rubbed his cheek there affectionately, before breathing in his ear, “I wanna ride you like it’s the last night we have.”

 

Because each night felt like the last, and this was the first time Tim had had the means to make it  _ good _ . Not that he could even be sure it was night- not that time seemed to mean much of anything here.

 

But something about this version of him drew him in, made him  _ want _ . Made him want to make him feel good, and he wished they had the time so that he could hear this Tim’s story. Learn about his life and what could have happened, if Tim himself had made different choices.

 

Maybe it was seeing himself slightly broken and wanting to fix that.

 

A kiss to the man’s flushed cheek, and Tim pushed himself up, bared himself for eyes that raked over him, seemed awestruck. He wondered if he could truly be that unrecognizable to  _ himself _ \- and yet he understood, because the man beneath him was him and felt like him and  _ yet _ he was something  _ else _ .

 

“Can I?” Tim asked, and his counterpart nodded. He grabbed the lube, twisting at the waist so he could pour it over his cock, stroking twice to spread it over his shaft. He dropped the bottle on his cape, kept one hand wrapped around the base to hold it steady, before pushing himself up. His thighs flexed as he got the head against his hole, before Tim eased down. He bit at his lip, tossing his head back as he pushed down, until he was resting down on the man’s pelvis, his cock fully inside him.

 

Despite staring up at the ceiling, he  _ heard _ the gasp the man gave, heard his hands skittering over the cape, grasping it and bunching it up. Tim trembled, feeling stretched but just rightly so. His hands ran down his sides, to his own hips, before he lowered his head-

 

And found those eyes boring into him, looking like they wanted to consume and  _ understand _ . He smiled, bit at his lip as he carefully raised himself up, before driving down. Those eyes snapped shut and the other Tim arched, tipped his head back. And Tim smiled, fisted his hands and lifted himself again, until he was riding him to a rhythm that was achingly fast, that had Tim’s cock bobbing and dripping down onto the other’s belly.

 

“Timmy,” the other gasped, his hands lifting up, grasping just above Tim’s knees. Tim shuddered, letting out a loud moan.

 

“Again,” he breathed, reaching up to tangle his hands in his own hair, tugging at it. “ _ Say it again _ .”

 

“Timmy,  _ baby _ .” The man’s voice was shaking, and it didn’t sound like  _ just _ the intensity of it all. It was nervous and it was something  _ else _ and Tim’s belly went up, his chest going tight. He moaned again, driving down harder, rhythm faltering but still  _ enough _ . The hand son his legs squeezed, his next movement met by a thrust up, by the man beneath him arching again. “Slow- down,” he breathed, trembling. “Or I’ll-”

 

“It’s okay,” Tim managed, sobbing out a breath. He was close but he wasn’t  _ there _ , and yet he didn’t want to slow down. He wanted to pull himself apart, see himself from above and discover every little thread bared raw at his open moments. “I want you to come.”

 

The man choked, arched again, tipped his head back and shouted and Tim  _ watched _ . He rode him through it, felt his cock pulsing and that familiar wet heat, and more importantly, watched the flush grow on his cheeks, watched the way his lips curved into a smile, watched the way he quaked and his muscles all went tight.

 

And then when he relaxed, as Tim slowed, as he seemed to melt beneath him. Tim smiled then, as the man’s eyes slit open, as he looked up, satiated and tired and  _ pleased _ . Tim smiled himself, stilling completely, ignoring his own desire to lean down, fan his hands out on the man’s chest and stretch to place a kiss to his forehead.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, because it was what  _ he _ had wanted to hear, when he hadn’t discovered his confidence and he lay there in post orgasmic bliss. He felt the hands on his legs move up, grasp the dip at his waist, squeeze affectionately. Tim kissed the bridge of his nose, before pausing at his mouth. His mouth moved slowly, lazily,  _ affectionately _ in ways that made his belly fill with butterflies. Tim sighed into it, before he was suddenly being pushed up, as his counterpart sat up. Tim gave a little surprised yelp, and an arm went around him, holding him steady, as he was kept firmly in the man’s lap.

 

“You didn’t get off,” he said, his other hand reaching between them, wrapping around Tim’s cock. “That’s not okay.” Tim whined, trying to buck into that hand, the other man’s cock still inside him, even as he was softening. Tim bit at his own lip, shivered as he was stroked quickly. He reached up, got his arms around the man’s neck and leaned back in, this time kissing him hard and clumsy, desperate.

 

“Kiss- me,” Tim managed between them, and his counterpart obliged. He kissed and  _ kissed _ until Tim’s mouth ached, the hand between them barely having room to move, but just enough to keep Tim’s pleasure building up. Tim clawed at his back and shoulders, clung too tightly and kissed too passionately, until he was mewling into the man’s mouth, panting and gasping and giving up, giving in, giving any and everything he had in that very moment.

 

He came and he kissed and he swore he was finding himself and finding something else that was startling and terrifying and  _ perfect _ in ways it shouldn’t be.

 

When he pulled back, his mouth ached and the other’s was pink as well, lips kiss swollen. Tim leaned in, pressed his forehead to his, closed his eyes and sighed.

 

“You’re intoxicating,” he whispered, and this time not because he had ever felt he needed to hear it, but because he needed to  _ say _ it. “Enlivening,” he added, and it was true.

 

For the first time since his initial escape attempt, Tim didn’t feel  _ hopeless _ .

 

*

 

“Hey,” Tim whispered, gently shaking his counterpart’s shoulder. The man groaned, curled up more around Tim, trying to bury him into his chest. Tim sighed, stayed there, whispering still, “Don’t react so they can see. Squeeze my waist if you’re awake.”

 

There was a moment of hesitation, but then the hand on his waist, under the cape, was squeezing. Tim smiled, keeping his face buried and hidden.

 

“Don’t open your eyes yet. They turned the lights almost completely out, but I bet their cameras can filter in the faint light.” He licked his lips. “I have an idea.”

 

The hand on his waist squeezed again. “About?” It was soft, just quiet enough for Tim to hear.

 

“Getting home.”

 

That earned him the other man opening his eyes, staring into the dark cell. “I thought you couldn’t escape.”

 

“I tried once. But something’s  _ different _ now. I think they’re coming for us.” He tipped his head up, kissed the man’s neck to make it seem like he was just being affectionate. “I heard the door  _ open _ before. They didn’t come in, but they were muttering, studying us. I think they’re  _ curious _ now.”

 

“They watched,” the other Tim muttered, and Tim huffed.

 

“They watch everything, of course they did.”

 

“Sounds like us.”

 

Tim almost laughed, had to clamp his mouth shut and stifle it. “Jokes later,” he managed, “but something just seems  _ off _ . They’re coming back. I need to get my utility belt. Listen, the lube rolled that way, I need you to… act like you want me.”

 

“Hmmm,  _ act _ .” Tim was suddenly rolled onto his back, pinned down as the cape half fell off them. His counterpart kissed him then, hungry and too real, and Tim groaned, bucked his hips up. “Acting I can do,” he breathed, and he  _ faked _ confidence well.

 

Tim wondered if that was how he was,  _ before _ . Felt like he couldn’t remember. Still, he got his arms around him, clung and bucked and kissed, until he was biting at the other’s lower lip. “Roll me over,” he breathed, and his older self obeyed, pushed up enough to roll Tim onto his belly. He pushed down on him, bit at the back of his neck, and Tim’s hands scrabbled along the floor, grasping at it but unable to catch on the smoothness. He groaned, bucking back, digging his ass into the other man, before breathing out,

 

“Tell me you wanna fuck me again.”

 

He didn’t have to add  _ loudly _ . He felt the man smile, before his weight lifted, and then, “I want to fuck you again.” He rolled his hips, and Tim bit at his lip. “Just. Like. This.”

 

Another roll, and Tim’s eyes shut for a moment. He swallowed, before squirming free, pushing himself up to walk to the corner of the room. He bent down, grabbing the lube and his utility belt, coming back to his other self and settling down, making a show of holding out the bottle and shaking it.

 

“I think I have more,” he said, making sure to keep his eyes on him. He knew where the camera was situated, had known for some time, and conveniently he had his back to it. Lower, he whispered, “I’m going to give you something. You need to slide it up your sleeve.”

 

There wasn’t a nod, but a flick of his eyes that showed he understood. Tim flipped open a pouch, digging around, and between their bodies slipped out a slender tool, passing to the the man. His other self slid it quickly up as his sleeve, as Tim huffed.

 

“I  _ always _ have another bottle,” he said, feigning annoyance. He moved to another pocket, glancing past his counterpart, swearing he saw movement in the near dark out there. And beneath his breath, “Use it the moment you can. They’re coming.”

 

“You said you  _ couldn’t _ get it.”

 

“One of me couldn’t,” Tim admitted. “But two can do  _ anything. _ ” He dropped his belt then, hooking an arm up around his neck and dragging him in, kissing him roughly.

 

It was a kiss good luck.

 

It was a kiss goodbye,  _ just in case _ .

 

*

 

Tim had been right. The lights had gone black as death, before he had slipped out of consciousness. He hadn’t even felt the prick on his neck, but coming to he could feel it throbbing, where they had gotten a dart in him. The visor he wore whenever they removed him from his cell was tight to his face. He could feel he was bound, smooth metal on his wrists and this pulse up around his arms. Some sort of energy.

 

He licked his lips, didn’t move. For a moment he just felt his body- didn’t feel any injuries, just the throb in the side of his neck. He was bound arms and legs, felt it pulsing on his chest even. He laced his fingers together, very carefully tested the movements of his wrists, before he fought to keep down a smile.

 

He could do this. He just needed to make sure they weren’t watching his hands.

 

He bowed his head slightly, inhaled one deep breath, before he let out a pitiful groan. He ripped it from his chest, before he forced his shoulders to shake, whining out “Where am I?” His voice as convincing, laced with fear and hopelessness. He sobbed once, tried thrashing, before shouting. He kept it wordless, desperate and broken, sobs and cries and frustration in just his grunts.

 

And as expected,  _ it worked _ . He heard footsteps, he heard that strange murmuring,  _ consume _ and  _ terminate _ , over and over again. He heard the word  _ List _ , how he was  _ integral _ , and the voices, they were in  _ front _ of him.

 

Exactly like he wanted.

 

“Please,” he whimpered, sliding his fingers beneath the cuff and fishing into his suit. The inside liner had a small device that he fished free, the very last he had. He pressed it to the metal on his wrist, as he said, clear as day and suddenly not scared but  _ infuriated _ , “fuck off.”

 

He pushed against the soft top of the device, only as large as his fingerpad. It gave in, and there was a pulse of energy, all over him. It made Tim ache down in his bones, but the residual shock was worth it when the energy around him was disrupted, and he was suddenly up, out of the contraption they had him seated in. He heard the shocked screeches, and wondered if whatever these  _ creatures _ were, if they only understood a few words in his tongue-

 

Thoughts for another time.

 

He was blind still, the visor on tight- but he didn’t need his eyes. He struck out, got the heel of his hand under a jaw and up, heard a neck snap back, before he was spinning, kicking out as he heard the footsteps of another. He heard it grunt, and he was reaching forward, just as a fist collided with his belly.

 

It was all  _ wrong _ , folded strange and too many joints.

 

He grasped at his assailant, sent them hurdling to the side, as he stumbled a few steps, before he spun on his heel, feet dug into the floor as he listened. The running footsteps were a give away, and he dropped down, stuck his leg out and tripped it, forcing the creature to the floor. He grasped at it, pulled it back by a hold on it’s clothing and slammed its head back into the floor.

 

And then he  _ waited _ for a panted breath, two,  _ three _ . When there was no more noise he rummaged around, feeling at the straps along the creature's chest. He found various little  _ tools _ , and paused to reached up, feel along the visor. There was a circular indent on the side, and after rubbing his fingers over it a few times, he went back to blindly feeling over the creature. It took a moment, but he found a cylinder shape that he  _ swore _ was the right side and shape at the end, and pulled it free.

 

He lifted it up, felt around the side of the visor until it pressed into the indent. He heard it click, and gave it a twist. A few more clicks, and the visor was loosening. Tim pulled the tool out, yanking it off and tossing it away, blinking back the ache the light caused. He looked around the room, at the bodies scattered, before he was pushing himself up, holding the tool tightly in his hand. He rushed for the front of the room, looked at the door, before he shoved the key that unlocked his visor into one of the straps on the chest of his suit, turning back and striding over to one of the guards.

 

He bent down, got his arms around the passed out creature’s chest, heaving him up and dragging him towards the door. They were much heavier than they appeared, had a strange oily scent to them that made Tim’s nose crinkle. He tried not to focus on it, pausing when he hit the wall, managing to get the creature’s arm up. He pressed its hand to the box, waited as a light blinked, before the door was hissing open. Tim dropped the guard, ignored the  _ thump _ of his weight, as he sprinted right out it, into the hallway. He looked around, seeing nothing but a sleek hallway, the walls reflecting his image, but he could see a small light, down towards the end of the corridor. He ran for it, just as another guard rounded the corner.

 

Tim threw himself on him, crashed him into the wall. He got his arms around his neck, jumping and locking his legs around his waist, choking the air right out of his throat. He was thrashed around, the creature slamming its back against the wall, and Tim gave a little yelp, but didn’t let up. When the creature slumped forward to his knees and then spilled them both to the floor, Tim finally let go, just to force himself to stand, so he could drag the creature of the to door.

 

Another hand scanned, and the door was opening, Tim leaving the body in the way so it couldn’t close and relock. As he did, he heard crashing, watched as his counterpart slammed one of his own guards into the wall. His visor was still intact, and Tim watched the creature’s head snap back, smack the wall before it went limp.

 

The others were scattered along the floor.

 

It slid down, and the other Tim was turning towards the sounds of Tim’s breath, tensing.

 

“It’s okay,” Tim said, and he watched his shoulders relax. He rushed over, pulling the key from his chest and reaching up, one hand holding the visor as he clicked it into place. “It’s just me,” he said, turning it, and a moment later pulling the visor off the man’s head. He tossed it and the key away, grasping at his face, pulling him in and kissing him, quickly. “We’re getting out of here,” he whispered, and  _ god _ , he wanted to kiss him again-

 

But there would be time, later. He had to believe it, had to make it real. And he swore, this time, he had the hope to make it so.

 

Tim grasped his hand, turning and running for the open door. They leapt over the fallen guard, and Tim turned towards where the creature had come from, following the curve of the hallway.

 

“I think,” he was saying as they ran, “that last time they  _ wanted _ me to escape. It was a part of breaking me- making me think that no matter how  _ smart _ or resourceful I was, they would always be one step ahead of me. But now.” Tim grinned. “They were ready to  _ consume _ us. They thought I was broken.” He saw the hallway curving again, and noticed there was another little panel, signifying a door. He went right for it, pausing and feeling in his other sleeve.

 

“How did you get out?” His counterpart asked, looking around, ready to jump should any more guards appear.

 

“I had a few tricks up my sleeve,” Tim said, pulling another small button like shape. He pressed it to the box, pushing his finger into the soft top, and watched as it burst open, began to leak onto the scanner- and then the liquid began to fizz, and he could hear the material dissolving. “A little energy disruptor button. Prototype only, it gave  _ me _ a nasty shock, but it threw off the energy pulse in my restraints and disabled them. Similar to the multitool I slipped you, just… easier to  _ hide _ .” He nodded towards the quickly dissolving panel. “Had an acid one too, in case whatever they had around me was physical.”

 

“I like your toys,” the other Tim said, grinning, as the door suddenly slid open.

 

“You’re gonna love what I’ve got at home then.” Tim headed in, heard his counterpart following, and looked around the room. His face lit up at all the screens, displaying other cells, other creatures.

 

Beings he didn’t recognize. And he wanted to  _ help _ them, but-

 

“We need to be fast,” he said, heading to a computer and clicking a few keys. They all had symbols he didn’t recognize, and whatever language this was, he couldn’t relate it to anything he knew. “Shit,” he grumbled, heard the door being forcibly dragged shut, and glanced over to see the other Tim had shoved it closed. “I can’t read any of this.”

 

“Can you touch the screen?” he asked, and TIm reached up, and  _ yes _ , the screen reacted, leaving a small burst where his finger had been, like a ripple. Tim grinned, eyes darting about, hitting random symbols, and then-

 

“Would you like extraction or replacement?”

 

He  _ understood _ the words.

 

“Hell yes,” his counterpart said, getting a hand on the small of Tim’s back and leaning in. “Replacement,” he said, and the screen suddenly scrolled down a long list in the language Tim couldn't read.

 

“Please select an appropriate reason for specimen replacement.”

 

“Which one?” Tim asked, and his counterpart shrugged, leaning forward and touching the first one he reached.

 

“Undesirable test results,” the computer read, and Tim shrugged.

 

“Why the  _ fuck _ not.”

 

“Would you like to enter multiverse coordinates, or replace with a bioscan?”

 

“Bioscan,” Tim said, and the symbols slid to the sides of the screen. The center lit up, pulsing gently, and Tim reached forward, placed his hand to it.

 

“Bioscan beginning. Please do not remove sample until complete.” Tim bit his lip, felt his pulse pounding, and  _ god _ , the seconds felt like they could drag on. He watched a bar slowly loading, as his counterpart moved away, looking at the other screens, at the flashes of others held captive in even  _ smaller _ cells.

 

And then there was a sudden loud  _ siren _ . Tim jerked, nearly pulling his hand away, and looked at the bar. It looked maybe two thirds full.

 

“Fuck, we need a little longer,” he said, turning to look at the door and  _ praying _ it didn’t open.

 

“We have to do something,” his counterpart was saying, looking from screen to screen. “We can’t  _ leave _ anyone here.”

 

“Bioscan complete. Configuring destination. Please proceed to transporter.” Tim pulled his hand back, turning and watching as a small spiral opened in the floor, a glowing cylinder carefully emerging. It pulsed, and Tim swore he could feel the heat and energy. He looked back at his counterpart, and then the door-

 

And then against the sound of the siren, ran over. He slammed his fist against the screen, watched the ripples fan out, and whatever symbol he had hit had been  _ right _ , when a row of doors suddenly opened.

 

“Open them all,” he said, “and  _ fast _ .” The other Tim was doing the same, swiping from page to page on the screen, until Tim could  _ hear _ the screeches in the hallway.

 

“That’s all of them,” the other Tim was saying, and Tim was grabbing his wrist, dragging him towards what he  _ presumed _ had to be the transporter.

 

“Great, then c’mon. We don’t have time for another scan.” He reached out, pressed both their hands to the pulsing device, and it was smooth, war beneath their palms. “You’re coming with me.”

 

The words were barely out of his mouth before the system was saying, “Transportation commencing. Subject has been removed from the Lyst.”

 

And then Tim swore he was seeing the inside of time.

 

*

 

He stumbled suddenly, swore he was being shoved out of a moving car. He reached out, his bare hand smacking a brick wall, his head spinning. For a moment his stomach turned, and he swore he was going to vomit- but a few slow breaths through his nose, and Tim’s vision was recovering. He was staring down, at his boots, at cracked sidewalk-

 

And around him was the sound of a city, sleeping. He straightened up, looked around, and  _ god _ he knew every alleyway in Gotham, and  _ this was it _ .

 

He was home.

 

He turned, found his counterpart leaning back against a wall, looking pale and just as dazed. Tim managed the few steps to him, and without a word threw his arms around him, pressing his face into his neck. “We did it,” he managed, squeezing. “We’re  _ out _ .”

 

There was a moment of nothing, and then a tentative hand on his back, as the other Tim looked around. Tim moved as the man’s chest rose, a deep inhale, and then a sigh.

 

“God, Gotham air is the same here.” Tim lifted his head, felt giddy and alive suddenly.

 

“I know where we are,” he said, “Can you make it a few blocks? I have a safe house.”

 

“Right off of 13th street, the one old apartment complex? The old women with too many cats and the gay niece?”

 

Tim  _ grinned _ . “You too?”

 

“A lifetime ago,” he admitted, this sad sort of smile curving on his lips.

 

*

 

Tim rubbed the towel over his hair, standing in his bathroom. His skin was hot to the touch, flushed from the heat of the water. He sighed, inhaling again, could still smell his soap and shampoo, and it was such an improvement over that oily smell he had, from  _ whatever _ they used to bathe him. Better than sweat that didn’t exactly come free.

 

He pushed the door open, let the steam out as he walked through the small apartment. He hadn’t bothered with a shirt, and his sweatpants were sliding off his hips. He’d lost a little weight, he realized, and maybe there was a part of him that could  _ worry _ over that.

 

Because he was safe, and if he wanted to worry about keeping the curve to his hips,  _ he could _ .

 

“Do you want a shower?” he asked, finding his counterpart sitting on the couch. He had stripped of his leather jacket, was looking at the mess sprawled out on Tim’s coffee tables, files from cases Tim had last reviewed when he stayed here.

 

“Yeah,” he said, standing up. Tim jerked his head back towards the trail of steam that seemed to be following him.

 

“Swear I didn’t use all the hot water. I’ll grab you a towel and something to wear.” His other self nodded, moving past Tim, as Tim headed for the bedroom. He ran the towel over his hair one more time, before he dropped it in the hamper, heading for his dresser and yanking it open. He grabbed a pair of gray sweatpants, before finding a tshirt in another drawer. He balled them up in his arms, heading out for his hallway closet and grabbing a towel. He found the bathroom door left open a few inches, and pushed it with his hip, was met by a fresh wave of steam. “It’s all on the sink,” he said, setting everything there.

 

“Thanks. Do you need to… call someone…” Tim glanced back, could see the man’s silhouette, behind the shower curtain.

 

And he should. God he  _ should _ . But it was late. Three AM, and everyone would be returning home, he hoped…

 

“They’ve thought me dead for weeks,” Tim said, “one more night of nonexistence is alright. Besides, I need some real sleep before I try to tackle the  _  interrogation _ Bruce is going to give me over all of that.”

 

_ And you _ , he added silently.

 

He didn’t get a response, but didn’t need one. He left the bathroom, heading for the bedroom. He left the light off but clicked on his nightstand lamp, pulling the blankets back and crawling in. He sprawled out on his back, sighing because he swore he was boneless, was melting into the softness of his sheets, the pure  _ joy _ of a  _ mattress _ and not a cold, hard floor.

 

His bones ached and he wanted them to disappear.

 

He closed his eyes, didn’t sleep but rifted, listening. Listening to the faint sounds of the traffic that had no right existing, at that hour. To the water in the bathroom, the spray of the shower. To his own breathing.

 

And then the shower was quiet. For some time, Tim didn’t hear anything, before the bathroom door was creaking open. He listened to footsteps crossing the apartment, until they were pausing, at his open door.

 

He didn’t lift his head. He didn’t open his eyes. “Come here,” he said, “get in a  _ real bed _ .” There was silence for a moment, before the footsteps again. Tim felt the bed dipping as his other self climbed over him, before he was sprawling out, on his back. Tim opened his eyes, turned his head to see him fold on arm up beneath his head, stare up at the mostly dark ceiling. Carefully, Tim rolled onto his side, reached out and traced his fingers along his side. “I’m sorry,” he said, and those eyes glanced at him for a moment, before they looked back at the ceiling. “That we didn’t have time to send  _ you _ home. But we’ll figure it out. We’ve had experience with the Multiverse, we’ll find a way to get you back where you belong.”

 

“I didn’t lose anything,” he said, “I disappeared once before, when Terry plucked me from time. I just disappear again- I think that’s a good thing. And there’s less people to miss me now.” He shifted, and Tim frowned.

 

“You had to have  _ someone _ .”

 

“Maybe for a moment, I did,” he admitted, “I had Barbara again. Terry was a friend, his brother- but they had a life without me. I was an insertion that could easily be removed, and the story would go on. Expandable.” He sighed, and without looking over, said, “I don’t have anyone to miss me enough. I don’t  _ miss _ anyone enough. I wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t want to, when they took me. I’m not sure I want to go back to that.”

 

Tim’s hand slid up, and he pulled himself close, his arm tight over the man’s waist. He propped himself up, leaning against his chest. “But you have a reason to stay here?” he asked, and those eyes, they flicked to him. “What  _ happened _ to you… to me… to  _ us _ …”

 

“I left the family. And you just… don’t go back to that. I got out and maybe I  _ hoped _ I’d still be a part of it, just not with a mask. But it’s hard to keep those ties.” He sighed, heavy, from his chest. “I used to watch the guys that came into my bar, used to try to figure out which one would be Bruce, in disguise. Told myself for a long time one of them had to be, one night. He wouldn’t just pull away. But then I… just lost that hope. You can only go for so long before you realize you’re believing in a lie.”

 

Tim frowned, felt his jaw aching, his throat tight. So  _ this _ was what he was, when he never had that support- when he pulled from it and it didn’t follow. This was who he was without a family and an identity and a knowledge of who he was and how much he  _ mattered _ .

 

He hadn’t been broken in his cell- he had been broken right in a world where he was meant to be.

 

“So take it back,” Tim whispered. “Take it back here with me.” He leaned closer, and the arm not pillowed behind the man’s head, it reached up, so his hand rested on the dip in Tim’s back. “Tell me you want to stay,” Tim whispered, “and I’ll make  _ sure _ you never go back. I’ll out reason anyone who tries to change my mind. But… stay with me…” It came out softly, and the hand grasped at his bare back. Tim reached up with his free hand, stroked over a cheek with the same bone structure as his own, paused to rub his thumb over the man’s cheek bone.

 

His heart was thudding and heavy, and Tim realized he wanted it, more than anything. Wanted this man to stay. Wanted him to learn and  _ discover _ himself- and god, Tim wanted to see it.

 

See his own rebirth, and be a part of it.

 

He leaned down, and very softly brushed his lips over his counterpart’s. The kiss was returned, slow and light and  _ sweet _ , and Tim wanted to sob. He choked on a noise, and the hand on his back clutched tighter.

 

“Would you have me?” his other self asked, in a voice that mirrored the tightness in Tim’s chest and neck.

 

“ _ Always _ .” He pressed his forehead down to his, and there was wetness, in his other self’s eyes. “You’re a part of me, somehow. Let me show you what you can be.”

 

The man moved his arm from beneath his head, reached up and sank his hand into Tim’s damp hair. He pulled him back down for another kiss, harder now. Tim mewled into it, was rolled over suddenly and pinned down on his back. He moaned, reached up and clutched at his counterpart’s shirt, squirmed as the man was settled between his legs.

 

“Let me have you,” he breathed, into Tim’s mouth. “And I’ll never go.”

 

Tim gasped, and it was a broken  _ yes _ he was whispering, as he was kissed again. And he could understand, down in his very core, how this version of him could  _ want _ what he was. How he could feel broken and see someone who  _ wasn’t _ , who should be him.

 

How he could be alone and know that TIm  _ understood _ , because who better to understand than yourself? But Tim had overcome, and he could teach, and this Tim, he could  _ learn _ .

 

The mouth against Tim’s moved to his jaw, his neck, and Tim arched, grinding up into him. It was wordless, not questions of if they were going to do this, now that they were no longer faced with the idea of death, or something  _ worse _ . No words on how it should be strange, how it should break some strings in the fabric of reality-

 

It was simply the intimacy they craved, with someone who could understand  _ exactly _ what they each needed to give and take.

 

The other Tim pushed himself up, just long enough to tug his tshirt off, toss it away. Then he was back, kissing Tim breathless, as Tim dragged his nails down his back, clutched and bucked up against him, until they were sliding, grinding together, panting into the kiss. He clutched at the muscles he felt flexing in the man’s back, before his hands slid down, grasped at the waistband of his sweatpants and began pushing.

 

He was up again, and Tim took advantage of it, squirmed until he could get free of his own. He was chucking them off the bed, as the other Tim was leaning over, pulling open the nightstand, finding a small bottle inside.

 

Tim had a feeling in the same spot he might have once kept it, except that Tim’s had been  _ replaced _ several times. He wondered if the other had ever even opened his.

 

He popped it open, drizzling the lube onto his fingers, as Tim scooted up into the pillows. He spread his thighs, rocking his hips up as the man crawled back between them, before those fingers slid beneath him, pressed up against his hole and easily inside.

 

Tim tipped his head back, gasping as they spread, before thrusting softly. Careful like the first time, but less timid. And when they curled, Tim shouted, shaking down to his toes as he reached out, grasped at the sheets.

 

“Fast- learner,” he gasped, and caught himself smiling.

 

“You should know,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Tim. Tim bit at his lip, fucked himself down onto his fingers, before reaching up, grasping at his shoulders.

 

“I’ll show you everything,” Tim whispered, remembering how that had been his  _ first _ time, and god, Tim wondered if he’d really ever been with anyone to this intensity. “Teach you who I am.” He leaned up, pressed his mouth to the man’s throat. “Maybe you’re lick me.” He leaned closer to his ear, breathed out, “If I call you babydoll, do you get weak?”

 

The man whined, and Tim  _ smiled _ snuggling in and panting into his pulse. He knew that somewhere in this version of himself, there had to be the same confusion he’d once housed. The same unhappiness in feeling like a part of him was locked away, like he didn’t  _ understand _ . Hadn’t discovered yet.

 

He’d have the time to let him learn, let him discover. He’d be there when he was confused, because  _ no one _ should be alone, like it seemed he once had- in another time, within another reality.

 

“Fuck me,” Tim whispered, shaking as those fingers curled again. “ _ Love me _ ,” he added, before he let go, let himself fall back into the pillows. He stared up, felt those fingers leave him and simply smiled,  _ waited _ , until his other self, this strange and incomplete version of him was back, was leaning over him and pushing in.

 

Tim arched, gave a cry, and swore they would reverse. He’d press him down and let him feel this, this sheer sweet joy in being open and exposed and  _ alright _ with it. He’d let his other self tremble and feel in ways he hadn’t yet.

 

But for now, he was content to reach up, to wind his arms around the man’s neck. This other Tim leaned down, kissed him like Tim silently wanted, moved his hips in slow thrusts and rolls, the kind of movement was intimate, wasn’t rushed, was meant to drag this out. The sweet sort of sex that Tim could admit he’d gone long enough without.

 

He turned his head, let his counterpart nuzzle his neck, moaned and pushed up to meet his thrust. His cock was leaking on his belly, but he had no desire to touch himself. He felt good enough like this, would rather keep a hold on himself, on  _ this Tim _ -

 

“Timmy,” his lover- and god,  _ god _ , Tim couldn’t deny that word, not in that moment- whimpered. “God, you just-”

 

“I know,” Tim sighed, turning, finding his mouth and kissing him. “I know babydoll. You’re okay.” Tim moved his mouth to the corner of the other’s lips. “I’m here. I’m going to be here through all of it.”

 

Tim was kissed again, was pushed back into the pillows, and the tightness in his belly was from the  _ intimacy _ , between them. Was from the feeling of being held and made love to- and Tim couldn’t wrap his mind around it, how he had gotten here.

 

But it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t  _ let _ it matter. This was his reality, and if this was what he in both forms wanted, it would simply  _ be _ .

 

Each thrust was driving his belly tighter. Tim felt his cock throbbing, and he began to slide and grind, letting himself give in until he was shaking, was sobbing out  _ Tim, babydoll _ as he came in long, buzzing waves. They drew out and waned and then came back to life, when the other choked out  _ Timmy _ and followed, thrust in deep and stayed there, letting TIm ride out the renewed waves until he was spent and lax, dream-like but still clutching tightly.

 

His counterpart rested down on him, one arm bent at the elbow and helping to support his weight. Tim smiled, softly,  _ tired _ , and reached up, cupped his face and ran his thumbs along his cheekbones. “You’re going to see so many wonderful things,” he whispered, as the other Tim leaned his forehead down against Tim’s, “when you look in the mirror.”

 

“I see them now,” he managed, his voice a little rough, from his chest. Tim felt his heart throbbing, beating up in a fuzzy heat, and he couldn’t  _ deny _ it felt a lot like in the past, when he had loved his partners and been loved, in return.

 

Tim eased his hands back, got his fingers in the man’s hair, at the back of his neck. He held and refused to let go, would keep him forever. After all, there was no one more  _ worthy _ of understanding than one’s self-

 

“Babydoll,” Tim whispered, and he watched his counterpart’s eyelids flutter, “welcome home.”

 

Because he was  _ never _ going to let him go- and somehow, Tim knew, in his gut, that this man would never want to leave. That he had found himself and would cling to him, until they were both nothing but dust. But he would know who he was, down to the marrows in his bone.

 

That they would both understand in ways that had never been possible, before this moment, this chain of events that had knitted together and given them this chance.

**Author's Note:**

> Great Tim calls himself babydoll, and now I ship two different Tims. Just a normal day, right?


End file.
